


Death by Candy Cane

by Mouse9



Series: Tales from Baker Street [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Hot Chocolate, If you tilt your head, Mayham, hint of Holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28277196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: The holiday season is never jolly nor bright when it comes to the Holmes brothers.Prompt:  If you try to steal the whipped cream from my hot cocoa, I swear I will stab you with a candy cane"
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes
Series: Tales from Baker Street [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1474946
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	Death by Candy Cane

They were grown men.

Adult, professional-well one of them at least- men. And yet, here they were, sitting on their parent’s sofa, holding mugs of hot cocoa covered with frothy heaps of whipped cream and garnished with a candy cane.

All because Mummy wanted to give Rosie Watson a real Christmas experience.

Mycroft didn’t know when John Watson and by extension, his deceased wife Mary and their daughter Rosie had become part of the family, but here they were. John was the brother Sherlock missed out on for years because of the trauma of Musgrave and Rosie had become his erstwhile niece/goddaughter.

Still, Mycroft thought as he plucked out the candy cane from the mug, another so called family member meant Mummy and Father had someone else to focus on other than them.

Absently he sucked the chocolate and cream from the candy and his eyebrows rose.

“The chocolate is spiked-stop that!”

Sherlock’s finger drew back with a dollop of cream from Mycroft’s mug. He promptly sucked it from his finger.

“You have your own mug,” Mycroft snapped quietly. “Kindly keep to it.”

“Yours is better,” Sherlock replied just as quietly before taking a drink of his own hot chocolate, whipped cream, and candy cane still intact. “Oh, that is good. Mummy has a bit of foresight.”

There was cream on Sherlock’s nose. Mycroft itched to wipe it off but didn’t dare. His hand tightened on his own mug, the subtle burn grounding him.

“Very mature Sherlock,” he replied dryly. “You’ll want to wipe the whipped cream from your nose.”  
Sherlock wiped it off but not before sticking out his tongue in defiance.

“I wonder, brother mine, is it just this house that transforms you into a brat, or are you trying to one up young Rosamund?”

A smug smirk followed by a quick glance to see if Rosie had heard her name being called was his only answer, followed by Sherlock’s finger dipping into Mycroft’s mug once more.

Mycroft slapped at his hand as it retracted while trying not to upend the drink onto his suit and trousers. Chocolate and brandy would be hell to get out in the cleaning.

“If you try stealing the whipped cream from my hot chocolate once more, I swear I will stab you with a candy cane.”

There was always something about Sherlock that could force Mycroft to break his practiced calm exterior and cause him to retaliate. Sherlock smirked in triumph as he licked the cream from his finger.

“Is that a euphemism, brother mine?”

A quick glance told him no one was paying attention to the brothers; all focus was still on Rosie as she opened another present. Mycroft leaned in towards Sherlock, eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“I was MI6, brother mine,” he hissed quietly. “I can assure you that any attempt to stab you with a candy cane will indeed be successful.”

There was the sound of breath catching as their gazes held, testing, measuring.

Then there was whipped cream on Mycroft’s nose, put there by Sherlock’s finger, so suddenly that Mycroft leaned back sharply, startled. Sherlock grinned, licking his finger once more. 

“Bring it, brother dear. Bring it.”


End file.
